The fire sputters, sending shadows dancing across the ceiling, while Jared waits for me to continue.
“It’s not desire that worries me,” I say. “It’s the uncertainty. The way he vanishes without explanation. The way worry follows him home.”
My finger traces up to the hollow of Jared’s throat to rest over his steady pulse. “When he’s with us, he fits. The three of us together feel right in a way I can’t explain. But then he disappears, and I find myself waiting again, wondering if I’ve done something wrong.”
“You haven’t done anything wrong,” Jared says firmly.
“My head knows that,” I reply. “My heart needs more convincing.”
The room grows darker as another candle surrenders to its melted base. Only one flame remains, casting our shadows faint and wavering on the wall behind the couch.
“He reminds me of Auren sometimes,” I continue, the name still thick with broken promises and abandoned dreams. “Not in his personality or the way he treats me, but in the pattern. The expectation that I’ll wait. I’ll understand. I’ll accept whatever scraps of his time he chooses to offer.”
Jared shifts, rolling to face me. “I see what’s happening, Em. You’re protecting Leif from your pain, and he’s protecting you from whatever he’s going through. All that protection means no one’s talking about what matters.”
The truth of his words settles into the space between us. How many times have I swallowed questions when Leif’s phone lights up with messages he won’t answer? How often have I pretended not to notice his distraction, the way his attention drifts during our evenings together?
“I see the pattern forming, and the risk of old wounds reopening.” I touch my breast bone, where I sometimes feel a flutter around Leif, but less often lately.
Do bonds die when they’re not given room to take root? When they’re not nurtured?
Jared’s hand covers mine. “I don’t like to see you in pain.”
“What if confronting Leif drives him away for good?” The fear slips out before I can contain it.
“What if not confronting him means watching him destroy himself while we stand by?”
The embers in the fireplace burn themselves out, plunging the room into deep shadow. The smell of smoke fills my nostrils, mixing with the scent of our bodies, our combined pheromones.
“I care about him,” I whisper into the darkness. “I want him with us. But not this way, not half-present and half-gone.”
Jared’s lips brush my forehead. “Then we need to tell him that.”
His certainty settles over me like a second blanket, warming places the throw can’t reach, and the steady rhythm of his heart beneath my palm reminds me that whatever comes next, I won’t face it alone.
“Tomorrow,” I say with a shaky breath. “If he comes for dinner tomorrow, we’ll talk to him.”
“And if he doesn’t?” Jared asks, the question gentle but necessary.
Tears threaten at the alternative. “I’m not sure I’m ready for that answer.”
“It’s okay.” Jared kisses my forehead and tugs the blanket higher around our shoulders. “Tomorrow will come soon enough.”
His arms tighten around me, and I let my eyes close, surrendering to emotional exhaustion and the promise of another day, another chance to break the pattern before it breaks us all.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Jared
The espresso machine hisses behind the counter as I check the time on my cell phone for the third time in five minutes. Ten past five. I asked Kyle to let me off early today so I could come to this meeting without Emily, but I’d like to meet her at the dock with a coffee when the six o’clock water taxi arrives.
The table I’ve chosen sits in the back corner of Harbor Café, far from the windows and the curious ears of the afternoon crowd.
Two coffees steam in front of me, one black for me, the other with a splash of cream for Leif. My fingers drum against the wooden tabletop, leaving faint moisture marks from the early-December chill still clinging to my skin.
The door chimes announce another customer, and I straighten, but it’s a woman in a red raincoat, not the mauve-haired Omega I’m waiting for.
A twinge of guilt pricks at my conscience. Emily doesn’t know about this meeting. She trusts Leif, excuses his absences, and waits up for his texts. But lately, I’ve watched her happiness dim too often when Leif cancels plans at the last minute or when shewakes to find he’s gone before dawn with only a note left on the kitchen counter.